My husband Paul and I were exploring the shops of Naples when I remembered. “I want to go out to the Pier and take some pictures before we leave,” I said.
Paul nodded. “Sure. We’re not in that big of a split.”
Paul drove while I swapped my heels for flip flops, and soon we arrived at the Pier. Its entrance was fringed with palms and close with sea grapes, making a tunnel over the path. The walkway spilled out onto sea grass and white sand.
“I like it.” I gave Paul a thumbs-up.
At the Pier’s base, people stretched out on beach towels or strolled along the edge of the surf. A Plein Air artist scowled at his creation, adding a dab of color to his brush.
We gazed off the edge of the Pier, and the underwater world was ours to admire. Minnows and fish swirled below, thick around the pilings, so many the water boiled in great circles where they swam. Pelicans soared past at eye level, plummeting suddenly into the water, almost always capturing a fish in their open beaks, gulping as they flew away. Others bobbed on the surf, bellies bloated with the bounty.
Children, grandparents, and girls in bikinis fished, dangling lines over the sides of the Pier, exclaiming in excitement when their poles suddenly bent. Dolphins, grey skins glistening, arced out of emerald-hued waves, impossible to catch on film.
The sun was bright and people grinned at us as if we all shared some happy secret. Paul was smiling, too. He reached for my hand. “I could stay here all day.”
And this simple outing, one in a sophisticated town intent on indulging every whim -- ended up being one of our favorites.
Turns out that -- sometimes -- breathing in the sweet music of nature is the biggest luxury of all.
Check out my pictures for a glimpse of the Naples’ Pier.